


Sweet Little Heaven

by Anonymous



Series: Within/Without [18]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Jealous Eddie, M/M, Post Season 3, the produce aisle of bristol farms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Are you jealous?” Buck asked. If he found the idea appealing, another lump of sugar to feed his vanity—that ravening, insecure ego-beast—he was certainly hiding it well.Eddie kicked that uncharitable thought away. Buck was possessive and territorial, too; he just wasn’t so… pathological about it.Eddie and Buck compare notes from the past. It goes about as well as you would expect. (set post Season 3)
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: Within/Without [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738876
Comments: 20
Kudos: 326
Collections: Anonymous





	Sweet Little Heaven

“What?” Eddie said defensively. “You’re only the third person I’ve had sex with, Buck. Don’t act so surprised.”

“Wait, hang on, that’s—”

“Gloria Gutierrez, high-school girlfriend number one. Shannon, high-school girlfriend number two turned wife. And you.”

“Okay, well that’s—fine. But really? Nothing?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Huh.” Hands tucked behind his head, Buck seemed to mull that over at some length.

Eddie stared down at his own body, at the bite mark on his chest already starting to bruise. “That’s all you got to say to me? _Huh_?”

Buck gave him a reproving look. “‘Cause I’m not sure I believe you.”

“What’s not to believe, Buck? I was a good boy; I kept my wedding vows. I married young and spent the better part of my twenties in Afghanistan. I never had a chance to go through a _phase_ like yours.”

“But you like to be in charge in bed.”

“So do you, sometimes.”

“For sure. But my point is that you know how to be in charge without being a dick about it. Most guys don’t.”

“Is that your experience?” Eddie raised himself up on one elbow, frowning. “I thought—”

“For the five-hundredth time, Eddie—”

“Sorry.”

“But I listen, you know, when women talk to me. My sister, my friends, a whole decade-plus of pillow talk. And from what I hear, plenty of guys like to be in charge, but the vast majority of them are total dicks about it. You’re not. You’re _good_ at it. So I just wondered, _Edmundo_ , if you’d ever gotten up to anything freaky. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinked. “I mean, sometimes Shannon and I would have sex when she was on her period.”

“That’s not kinky, that’s normal,” Buck said.

“Fine, I… once I pulled her tampon out with my teeth. By the string.” Eddie flushed.

“Again, normal. Kinda hot, I give you that, but definitely normal.”

“Well, that’s all I got,” he said grumpily.

Buck squeezed his arm. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I guess you’re just naturally gifted at giving orders—”

“I _was_ Staff Sergeant—”

“—in a way that makes me wanna follow ’em.”

Eddie laughed. “Buck, you have an authority complex big enough to see from _space._ ”

Now it was Buck’s turn to flush. Eddie smirked. 

“What about you, then?” he asked.

“What about me, what?” Buck looked at him coyly through his lashes.

“Same question. What crazy kinky shit have _you_ done?”

“Nope. Not going there. ’Cause _you_ , Eddie Diaz, are one jealous motherfucker. If I kiss and tell, you’ll get all pissed about it, and then we’ll waste the rest of Christopher’s sleepover bitching at each other instead of having more loud sex, which is something I have every intention of doing with you, by the way.” Buck paused for breath, and Eddie opened his mouth to argue, even though Buck was totally spot-on in his assessment, Eddie _would_ get jealous, he _did_ get jealous, any time he gleaned a new anecdote from Buck’s sexual past. The amatory escapades of Bucks 1.0 and 2.0 never failed to set his teeth on edge. But—

But Buck had already started up again. “Besides, I think the language we use to talk about sex is pretty problematic. When I was with Ali—”

Eddie tensed.

“Case in point, Eddie. Case in point.”

“I never liked her,” he defended himself. “She dumped you when you were laid up, man. That’s unforgivable.”

Buck slipped an arm around him and pulled him back towards him. Grudgingly, Eddie settled his chin on Buck’s chest and vowed to hold his temper.

“Ali made me realize that the way we talk about sex is all screwed up,” Buck continued. “She was always pointing out subject-object stuff. Like instead of me saying ‘I’m fucking you,’ she would say, ‘I’m subsuming you.’ Or if I said, ‘I’m pulling out,’ she would say, ‘No, I’m releasing you.’”

“…Okay,” Eddie said. As far as dirty talk went, this wasn’t doing much for him.

“And I get why Ali wanted to flip the tables. Think about how guys talk to each other, Eddie. I mean, you were in the Army, you know the kind of shit: ‘I rammed it right up her’ or ‘I fucked her in the ass.’”

“I’ve never spoken about anyone that way in my _life_ ,” Eddie said emphatically. But he did know, of course, he knew exactly the kind of shit Buck meant. He’d heard it all, and he shook his head disgustedly. “No real man talks about women like that. The soldiers in my unit knew better than to use that language around me. No gay jokes, either. I wouldn’t stand for it, Buck. Not then and certainly not now.”

“I know,” Buck soothed, patting his shoulder. “I’m just trying to explain Ali’s thing about language. She told me that in precolonial matriarchies, it was the women who’d brag to each other about their conquests, like, ‘I subsumed him inside of me. I made his cock disappear. I just stole it away and hid it deep inside myself until he didn’t even exist anymore.’” Buck laughed. “Isn’t that awesome?”

“I guess,” Eddie said dubiously.

“‘I swallowed him up. I took his flesh and totally nullified it with my flesh—‘”

“I think I get the gist.”

“It doesn’t turn you on? Not even a little bit?”

“Not the SAT words, no. ‘Subsumed.’ ‘Nullified.’ But the, uh, feminism—that’s cool.” He kissed the tattoo on Buck’s chest as Buck snickered quietly. “What?”

“You’re so…”

“ _What_?”

Buck just laughed.

“So you and Ali,” Eddie said, a bit stiffly. “You must’ve… gotten pretty kinky then.”

“Well, let’s just say your dick wasn’t the first thing I had up my ass.” Buck winked and then looked utterly stricken. “Sorry. _Sorry._ I swear on my life I didn’t mean to say that. I’m an idiot. I know you don’t like hearing about Ali or Abby or—. Shit. I never should’ve—”

Eddie took a breath before he cut him off. “It’s fine. I…asked. Sort of. And when I get jealous—I mean, I don’t have any right, I know it’s not… fair.”

None of it was fair. _He_ was the one who had insisted on keeping them a secret because he hadn’t found a way of coming out as _not-quite-straight_ to anyone except his nine-year-old son, who didn’t need telling, and his elderly abuela, who already knew he loved Buck and honestly didn’t need much telling, either. Selfishly, he’d built a fortress around the family he’d chosen for himself: Buck, their—yes, _their_ —kid, and Abuela, the only parent-figure who’d ever loved him unconditionally, without judgment.

He wouldn’t let Buck tell his own sister because he was so afraid Maddie would tell Chimney and Chimney would tell everyone, and then it wouldn’t be _theirs_ anymore, his and Buck’s, it would be out in the open. And he couldn’t, he wasn’t ready—… So instead he was dragging his heels, behaving like a total pendejo of the highest order, getting worked up over _Ali_ , of all people.

Whereas Buck was always prodding and coaxing him into talking about Shannon, because he knew Eddie _needed_ to talk about her, so her memory wouldn’t calcify into a hard little rock in the rear chamber of his heart. And occasionally, after Eddie had disburdened himself of one reminiscence or another, and they were sitting quietly together, Buck would look at him sort of hopefully, like he wished Eddie would maybe ask him something in return.

Eddie never did.

Well, he did, but not about _that._

Not about Ali, and certainly not about Abby, who still loomed a little too large in his mind.

And as for the prolific exploits of Buck 1.0… Eddie had no frame of reference.

Because he’d never gone in for it himself, casual sex. There were times he’d been tempted, seriously tempted, but he’d always been too tired, too stressed, too concerned about Christopher, too angry at Shannon, too tangled up in his marriage vows and whether or not they still applied to him, even after she left. And after she died, well…

Eddie had figured out how to turn off, or at least sort of pause, his sex drive while he was in Afghanistan. Handy trick, that. Served him well. But where Eddie had disciplined himself to flip a switch and practice a steely sort of stoicism, Buck had… turned his own dial up to eleven and gone fuckin’ wild. According to the stories, anyway. _Firehose._ Eddie didn’t judge, how could he? He understood that Buck’s so-called sex addiction was its own kind of nihilism. And it was probably a much more exhilarating way of shouting into the void than the path Eddie had chosen.

Besides. Buck was _his_ now.

He closed his eyes, opened them, and took another deep breath. “Okay,” he said, settling his cheek more comfortably against Buck’s muscled chest. “Okay, tell me about it. Tell me… what you did with her. What she, uh. Put up your ass, or whatever.”

Buck tipped his chin down to look at him. “Uh, Eddie? Did you just get bodysnatched or something?”

“No, Buck, I didn’t get _bodysnatched._ I’m just… trying here.” He circled Buck’s nipple with his fingertip until Buck twitched and swatted his hand away. “I want to listen. I promise.”

“You aren’t gonna Hulk out on me?” Buck demanded, with a healthy and well-earned dose of skepticism in his voice.

“Nope. The only guy you’re in bed with is… what’s his real name again?”

“Banner,” Buck said. “Seriously, Eds? We watched _Avengers_ with Chris like, last week.”

“I fell asleep, though,” Eddie said. “Didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did. I don’t think you lasted ten minutes.”

“I’m an old man. After you cross thirty, you’ll understand.”

Buck slid a hand into his hair and scratched lightly at his scalp. “You sure you wanna hear this, Eddie?”

“Yeah, man. Do your worst.” He meant it. Mostly.

“Well, okay then… D’you know what pegging is?”

“Yeaaahhno. Maybe.”

Buck’s fingers drifted down his spine, as if counting each vertebra. “It’s when she fucks you in the ass with a strap-on.”

“Oh. Yeah. I knew that,” Eddie said. His ears felt a little hot, but he managed not to blush.

“Sometimes straight guys get touchy about it, but it’s not that big of a deal.” Buck ran an idle hand over his ass as he talked. “Probably wouldn’t even classify it as kinky. Break out the handcuffs, though, and maybe then…” His hand became less idle, kneading the skin enthusiastically. “You really have an awesome ass, man, did you know that?”

“Knock it off.” Eddie turned his face deeper into Buck’s chest.

“I’m serious.” Buck tap-tapped his fingers along the curve of one ass cheek with a little grin, resting them right where the swell of flesh began. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Eddie, you make my eyes hurt sometimes.”

“Shut _up_.” He trapped Buck in a rough bear-hug of an embrace, and kissed him, forcing his mouth open. Buck grabbed him back just as tightly, his fingers splayed across Eddie’s shoulder blades, their mouths locked together.

They sprawled diagonally across Buck’s bed, kissing long and hard, wrestling to get their bodies pressed as close as they could. Buck kicked at the bunched-up heap of the duvet until it was halfway onto the floor. Eddie rolled on top of him, leaving a trail of hard, stinging kisses against Buck’s collarbone, chest, abs. When he cupped his balls in his hand and leaned down to take him in his mouth, Buck’s hips arched up of their own accord and Eddie pulled back a little, coughing. He had no finesse for this, got all up in his head about it, but sometimes… He went back in, giving Buck more warning this time as he wrapped his tongue around his cock. He couldn’t take it down his throat, nowhere near, but he seemed to have a pretty dexterous tongue…

Buck pushed him away. “I’ll come too soon,” he said.

“Maybe that’s the point,” Eddie retorted, reaching for his cock again.

“Nah, get back up here,” Buck insisted, and with a sigh Eddie obliged him.

“What?”

“Let me…” Buck rummaged in the bedside table. “This is empty,” he said, waving the bottle of lube under Eddie’s nose. “Why didn’t you tell me we’d run out?”

“Oh, that’s my job, is it?”

“You always use too much.” 

“Sorry, would you rather I—how’d you put it?—oh, yeah, ‘rammed it right up you’?” Eddie raised his eyebrows. “’Cause I know _I_ wouldn’t—”

“I think I have more in the bathroom, hang on.” Buck rolled out of bed and walked over to the en suite; Eddie folded his arms behind his head and enjoyed the view. Speaking of awesome asses, Jesus Christ, Buck’s really was a thing of beauty. He listened to Buck clatter through the drawers and cabinets in the bathroom and thought, lazily, that he wouldn’t mind getting his mouth back on him. He could use the practice.

“Found it.” Buck rejoined him, tossing something on the pillow between them.

“Uh,” Eddie said. The tube was large and a bit grimy where dust had stuck to the sticky traces leaking from the rim, and something about the way it was at least half-empty and painstakingly rolled up from the flattened bottom, like toothpaste or something, made Eddie feel—well, not _jealous_ , exactly, but a certain sense of aesthetic irritation. “Yeah, no,” he said curtly. “I’m not using that.”

“It’s not expired or anything,” Buck said, frowning. “I checked.”

“‘Cucumber mango orange blossom?’” Eddie read from the side of the tube, shaking his head in disbelief. “What the hell is this? It’s one thing for your _scalp_ to smell like a giant fruit salad, but I’m not having half the produce aisle from Bristol Farms shoved up my ass, Buck.”

“Who said it’d be up _your_ ass?” Buck snatched the tube back and flung it onto the nightstand. “Sorry I don’t have one that smells like, I dunno, diesel and whiskey, or whatever you think is manly enough…” He cracked up, though, and, grudgingly, Eddie felt himself start to smile, too. He decided against reminding Buck that he’d done fine with the regular unscented stuff, he just objected to this tube of glorified salad dressing.

“Are you jealous?” Buck asked. If he found the idea appealing, another lump of sugar to feed his vanity—that ravening, insecure ego-beast—he was certainly hiding it well.

Eddie kicked that uncharitable thought away. He knew Buck was in love with him, every bit as much as Eddie was in love with Buck. Buck was possessive and territorial, too; he just wasn’t so… pathological about it.

_Get a grip, Diaz. Tell the truth._

“A little,” he said.

“Lie back,” Buck said. “Please.”

Eddie flopped back onto the pillow, allowing Buck to settle between his legs. He closed his eyes, feeling Buck’s tongue drag along the outside of his thigh, making inroads toward the juncture of his hip. He shifted against the mattress; when Buck cautiously nudged his knees a bit further apart, Eddie didn’t stop him. Buck’s mouth slid down again, finding the back of his knee, worrying the thin delicate skin with the lightest of little bites. Eddie rumbled appreciatively. He heard rustling sounds as Buck yanked a twisted bedsheet aside, then jumped and laughed when Buck gave a sudden, ferocious nip to the inside of his thigh. He felt a finger traveling higher, okay, yes, and then—

“Jesus motherfucking Christ!” Eddie shouted, eyes snapping open. “What the—what the _hell_ are you doing?”

“Don’t freak out,” Buck said. “You showered—what, like an hour ago? It’s cool, man. Just relax.”

“Is this a _thing_? Do people actually, like—”

“Oh, yeah,” Buck said, resting his chin on Eddie’s thigh, looking up at him roguishly. “You bet your ass they do.”

“Gay people—?”

“All people,” Buck told him firmly.

Eddie reached back to grip the pillow under his head with both hands. The world spun too fast for him sometimes. The steep acceleration of his learning curve—from uncertain of what he was feeling for his best friend, to fantasizing about kissing his best friend, to being in a serious albeit secret relationship with his best friend who was now so much more than that, to _this_ —he barely understood what was happening to him, only that he wanted it. He’d been catapulted into a fourth dimension beyond good manners and common sense—beyond the known universe itself.

“I don’t know if I can do it back,” he warned Buck, inner macho jostling for space, before the older and wiser Eddie remembered that he had thought—and probably said—much the same thing about blowjobs and fucking. “Not yet, anyway,” he amended, looking down at Buck, still lying patiently between his legs.

“We’re in a relationship, Eddie, not exchanging party favors,” Buck reminded him, a little wearily, blue eyes sharp and bright. “There’s no quid pro quo.”

“I…”

“If you don’t want it, just say no and we’ll move on.”

“…Yes.”

Buck was… everything. Long ago Shannon had told him that she needed a partner, not a provider, and Eddie hadn’t really understood what that meant. He’d loved her, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he pushed himself past the limits of endurance to take care of her, of Christopher? At the time, he couldn’t fathom how that wasn’t enough for her—what else did a man have to give? But two years of friendship and love with Buck had taught him that there was so much more, oceans more, and it wasn’t just about putting food on the table and money in the bank and paying your kid’s exorbitant medical bills and trying to give him a childhood of abundance utterly unlike the one you’d had in the shitty border town where you’d grown up on food stamps and scarcity and getting pulled over by cops who’d like nothing better than to kick your culo back to Mexico despite the fact that you’d been born on the right side of the barbed wire and your mom was even white but none of that mattered because of your name and your face and after you gave your youth for your country and came back a hero you still weren’t good enough, weren’t anything enough, not until you were face to face with this boy, this man, this _Buck_ in the parking lot outside a hospital having just defused a grenade together and when you told him _you can have my back any day_ he blushed and grinned and said _or, you know, you could have mine_ and in that moment you realized, finally, how much you might be capable of giving.

Eddie sighed as sensation traveled through his whole body, burning away squeamishness and shame and reserve and every other crippling hindrance that had ever defined him. He wasn’t even sure if he was here anymore. Someone else was groaning and calling Buck’s name and clutching the slats of the headboard so hard his hands hurt, it wasn’t his thighs and chest seized up hot and tight or his cock that was throbbing and aching for more, and he wasn’t shouting incoherent nonsense as he arched back and tried to open himself up even wider. Buck stopped licking him then and bit at his thighs like he really meant it, like he could eat Eddie alive, and Eddie wouldn’t stop him— 

“Fuck me,” he ordered, summoning up his Staff Sergeant Diaz voice from somewhere because he knew what _that_ did to Buck.

“I was gonna finish you off like this.” Buck sounded strange and different too, his voice thick and heavy and ragged with its own unspoken pleas. He put his hands on Eddie’s hipbones; Eddie could see that his fingers were trembling.

“No.” He shook his head vehemently. “I want you to—damn it—please—” He hoped Buck wouldn’t make him beg for it. If he did, the old mortification and machismo would return and spoil everything.

But Buck was crawling up his body then, eyes tenebrous with lust, reaching across the pillow, and as he uncapped the tube of lubricant and the heavy aroma of tropical flowers began to permeate the air, Eddie knew that they were all right. He laughed, Buck laughed, gruff terms of endearment were exchanged, and Eddie rolled onto his front, heart beating faster than the wings of a dragonfly.

*

“So that was intense,” Buck commented as they changed the sheets on the bed.

“I saw the look on your face when Chris got invited to Jasper’s sleepover,” Eddie replied, tucking in the corners with military precision. “This was _exactly_ what you had in mind.” 

The bed made, Buck started off downstairs, and Eddie followed him, uneasy. _He_ was the one who got weird after sex, not Buck.

“Beer?”

“Yeah, please.”

They sank onto the sofa. Buck switched on the television, muting whatever nature program was on.

Eddie sniffed the air. “I think I can still smell that godawful lube.”

“We showered, dude. _Again._ ”

“I can still smell it.”

“Eddie.” Buck set his beer on the table and turned to him, putting a hand on his knee. “Are you… okay? Was it too much, what we did?”

“No, not at all,” he said, surprised. Buck was looking at him intently, baby blues radiating all sorts of worry and concern and… was that _fear_?

“I feel like I might’ve fucked up. Pushed too far. Everything, all of this…” Buck took his hand away and wrapped his arms around himself, a thing he did when he was trying to take up less space in the world. “I’m feeling a little crazy. When Maddie called this morning, she wanted to set me up with Sue Blevins’s _niece_ , and I had to be all thanks but no thanks, Mads, I’m just chillin’, you know, living up that solo YOLO life, LOL. And then she asked me if I was _depressed_. And since I couldn’t tell her, no, I’m actually living out my wildest dreams right now—”

“Oh.” Eddie considered it progress that he did not demand immediate confirmation that Buck was not, in fact, going on a date with Sue Blevins’s niece, to whom he’d already attributed blond hair, blue eyes, and a charming gap-toothed smile. But that was missing the point. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t apologize, I’m trying to say _I’m_ sorry, if I’ve rushed this along, especially the sex stuff—and if it seemed like I was trying to flaunt, oh, I don’t know—. I never should’ve broken out that stupid lube—”

“Buck. Stop. Everything we do—I want it. I _like_ it. Does it seem like I…don’t?”

“No, but you—”

“I can try to be more verbal,” Eddie offered. “Tell you how much I like… subsuming your flesh. Being nullified by you.”

“Very funny,” Buck said. “But no, it just seemed like you…you went somewhere. In your head. When I was, uh…” he trailed off, a hint of pink dusting his cheekbones even as his gaze remained steady. “You…”

And at that moment, Eddie had something of an epiphany.

“Hey, remember when Chris killed the dragonfly the other day?” he said abruptly.

Buck looked utterly baffled, but he nodded.

“It was a total accident, but damn did that kid cry like a waterfall.” Eddie shook his head. “And I kept trying to convince him that he hadn’t killed it, that it had just died at exactly the same second he caught it in the jar—which maybe coulda been true, ’cause the dragonfly had just frozen there… Remember?”

“Uh huh,” Buck said. He was obviously lost but going along with it, for which Eddie was grateful.

“It was so pretty, its wings spread out like it was flying without moving. It didn’t look like it had been hurt, it wasn’t crushed or missing any parts of its body or anything. I told him all that, but he wouldn’t stop crying. Then _you_ came over, and you told Chris that he could bury it, and that you would show him a secret Aztec ritual so its soul could get unstuck from its body and fly away.” 

Chris had gotten obsessed with the Aztecs recently, following a documentary the three of them had watched on the Discovery Channel. (When the narrator described how Cortés’s invasion led to the death of Montezuma II and the collapse of the empire, Buck had exclaimed, wide-eyed and delighted, “Now I understand why they call it Montezuma’s Revenge!” and Eddie had just about died laughing.) Chris’s fascination had only deepened when Buck had told him that he was probably descended from the Aztecs on Eddie’s side; Eddie couldn’t, like, verify that, but he’d gone along with it anyway.

He continued: “So you and Chris buried the dragonfly in the yard, you said a bunch of weird mumbo-jumbo, and then the two of you danced around the grave singing ‘Cielito Lindo.’”

“Oh yeah.” Buck laughed. 

“Neither of you really knew the words, so you kept coming back to the ‘ay ay ay ays.’” Eddie grinned at the memory. He’d managed to record some of it on his phone, sneaky footage of Chris and Buck marching and prancing and singing _canta no llores, porque cantando se alegran, cielito lindo, los corazones ay ay ay ay_ , while Eddie himself had battled to keep a straight face as he played the role of designated mourner. “It was… awesome. Him. _You._ And I thought about how you’re already Chris’s parent, you’re already my partner, you’re _everything._ To me. To us. So even though I’ve been acting—shitty—I want you to know that it’s, uh. Only a matter of time. Till I. Till we…”

Eddie was losing the words now, his flow drying up. He wanted to say that it was only a matter of time until they got married, the two of them, if Buck wanted it too, and also that he’d rather just wake up married to Buck tomorrow than wade through all this intermediate stuff, the telling people, the labels, the figuring-shit-out, even though he knew it was adult and necessary.

“You were thinking all _that_ while I ate you out?” Buck looked scandalized. “Jesus, Eddie.”

“Maybe not in as many words.”

“So you and me are _Avengers: Endgame_ , is what you’re saying,” Buck surmised.

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, even as he cringed a little.

“Cool,” Buck said. “You, uh… you promise that’s what you really want? For us?”

“I promise. You?”

“Yeah. Definitely. Absolutely.” Buck beamed at him, and Eddie released the breath he’d been holding. He picked up his beer and took a sip.

“When I dropped Chris off for his sleepover, I heard him telling Jasper about how the two of you buried the dragonfly.”

“Yeah?” Buck reached for his own beer. “Was Jasper impressed by my secret Aztec ritual?”

“Jasper said maybe they should kill more insects and bury them to create an entire cemetery.”

“ _Kids._ ” Buck shook his head in mock-despair. “Bloodthirsty little savages. Except for Christopher, obviously. How’d we get to be so lucky, Eddie?”

“I have no idea,” Eddie said. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ali came and went so quickly... one feels compelled to speculate about her relationship with Buck might have been like...
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!


End file.
